


precision

by blazeofglory



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 10:52:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3934063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazeofglory/pseuds/blazeofglory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt paints Karen's nails.</p>
            </blockquote>





	precision

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I'm so addicted to the kinkmeme. It's a problem. Oh, and there are some serious hints at Matt/Karen/Foggy, but it's still gen.

Matt hated the smell of nail polish, but he had _very_ steady hands. In undergrad, he’d been the go-to person when girls needed their nails painted; it was a great excuse to flirt, and never failed to impress. So when he heard Karen curse for the third time in ten minutes, he had to do something. As amusing as Karen’s creative words were, he’d rather help out than listen in amusement.

“Karen? Do you need help?” he called out from his office. Karen jumped at his sudden voice after the afternoon of quiet, but she picked up the bottle and headed over anyway. She leaned against the doorjamb, and Matt had a feeling she was frowning down at her nails. The smell of nail polish was disgustingly strong, but below that, he could smell her shampoo and the blueberry muffin she’d had for breakfast, and the gentle perfume she always wore.

“I’m trying to paint my nails. I don’t think this is something you can help with,” she pointed out, her voice warm and affectionate. Matt grinned back at her.

“You’d be surprised.” He gestured to the chair across from him. “Let me try.”

Karen chuckled quietly, obviously still disbelieving, but she sat down anyway, holding out the hand she’d been working on. “I keep getting my _fucking_ cuticles, it’s literally driving me crazy. But if you can do better, by all means.”

Matt laughed. “Well, take off the polish you already messed up, and then we’ll see.”

“Oh, right.” Karen headed back to her desk and grabbed the nail polish remover and a few cotton balls, then sat back down opposite Matt and set to work. The smell was even worse than the nail polish itself, but Matt said nothing.

“What color is it?” he asked after a moment, once Karen had finished. It didn’t take long, since she had only painted three fingers, but it did take a little bit of time to get the paint off of her skin where she had smeared it everywhere.

“Pink,” she said, a smile in her voice. “But really light pink, not hot pink.”

Matt gently rolled the bottle between his hands, smiling over at her. “That’s a shame. Hot pink used to be my favorite.”

Karen burst into laughter, and Matt’s grin widened. Her heart jumped a little as he reached for her hand. He opened the bottle and started on her pinkie finger as she watched avidly.

“How do you even do that?” Karen asked, sounding awed. Matt wanted to shrug, but he was busy focusing on the brush strokes, careful not to get a drop on her cuticles.

“Practice, I guess. Or maybe a natural gift. Girls in college used to love this.”

She laughed again, sounding lighter than she had in months, as if whatever it was that had been bothering her was finally gone. Matt didn’t really believe that, but he was relieved to hear her finally relaxing. “I _bet_ they loved it.”

“Foggy did too,” Matt added. “Whenever we got drunk, he always wanted his nails painted. I think he wore hot pink.”

“ _Foggy_? I can actually imagine that. I bet he looked so pretty.”

“You’re both pretty, even without pink nails,” he said easily, finishing off her left hand. She held out her right, her heart a little faster again.

“I think Foggy’s said it before that you have no idea what we look like,” she pointed out. “We could both be trolls.”

Matt laughed again. Even if he had _zero_ idea what either of them looked like physically, he knew enough from their voices and their scents and their personalities that they were _far_ from trolls. “I don’t believe that.”

He had a feeling that Karen was grinning at him, and she opened her mouth to respond, but before she could—the front door opened, bringing in the scent of the city and ham sandwiches and cotton-scented deodorant.

Foggy poked his head through Matt’s door, a smile in his voice, “I brought lunch. You guys are having a slumber party and I wasn’t invited?”

“I can do your nails next,” Matt offered, and Foggy’s heart sped up at the memories that brought forward.

“It’s been ages, man,” he said with a laugh, coming over to look down at Karen’s nails. “I almost forgot how freakishly good you are at this.”

“I’ve been doing this for years and I’ve always sucked,” Karen added, blowing on her nails as Matt finally finished.

Matt’s heart clenched a little, overwhelmed with affection. “Well, I guess it’s good you guys have me, then, isn’t it?”


End file.
